Thankful #1

I have started this essay five times.

I realize that whatever I say right now, at 7:26 on a Sunday morning, with ten research papers to grade and a mentor meeting at 11:30, with two dogs to walk and student blogs to read, with a house to straighten and clean, two (my own and her cousin) children to feed, a soccer game to attend, and tests to type for my husband, is not going to be eloquent or thoughtful.

I have never been busier. I try to slow down at 4:00 or so every day, have a beer, catch up with friends. But I fail somewhere.

So for the next few days, I would like to do some serious thank-you messages to those I love or like or respect. The usual suspects will show up here, of course—my husband, daughter, parents, sister. And you'll be here.

My daughter made me close her eyes, and then she presented me with the sign she made in school: "Mom I'm thankful for you being a poet." She has never said this to me, and I am somewhat surprised. But maybe she has learned how important it has been in her own creative endeavors. She has spent the last few days at my computer typing and editing a folk tale with dialogue like, "I would love some juicy, tender company"; the shark says this to the piranha. The moral of her story is: "Never doubt someone smaller than you."

I never doubt my daughter. Sometimes I feel like my pride is going to explode me.

Thanks, girl.

And thanks to those who visit my life once in awhile and say hello. I'm not always the best at reciprocating right now, with all these deadlines, but I long for the day that I can catch up with the good books you have all written. I especially need to patronize Ren Kat's places; she is in Barcelona right now, the only place I truly need to go, but when she gets back, I'll be there for her. And I will be there for you, too, soon.

And thanks to my doggies, for waiting patiently for their walk while I type. Here I come, puppies.